The silence in the living room was heavier than ever. Rosie sat on the couch, curled into herself, knees hugged to her chest. Arthur stood near the entrance, his jaw tight, eyes scanning her cautiously. The air was still electric from the events of the party and the rough drive home.
Arthur finally broke the silence. "I didn't mean to grab you like that."
Rosie didn't look up. "But you did. And I kissed James. I don't even know why."
He walked toward her slowly. "Yeah, you do. Same reason I lost control—because this thing between us… it's real. And it's driving us insane."
Rosie's eyes flicked to his. "We hurt each other."
"And we both regret it," Arthur said, crouching in front of her. "I'm sorry. I should've trusted you."
"I'm sorry too," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I let my anger take over."
Arthur sat beside her now, brushing her hair from her face. "Can we… stop running? Just say everything? No games. No pride."
Rosie nodded slowly. "Let's say everything."
They sat for a long time, opening up like never before. Arthur talked about his past, the hollow nights, the expectations, the pressure of being the son of a businessman. Rosie admitted how confused she was about her feelings from the start, how scared she was of losing herself in him.
"And what about… us?" Arthur asked, voice low.
Rosie met his gaze. "I want you. Not just emotionally, Arthur. I've wanted you in ways I was scared to say."
Arthur leaned in. "Say it now."
Rosie looked into his eyes and whispered, "I want to know what it feels like to be completely yours. No holding back."
The moment exploded between them.
Arthur kissed her, slow at first, but then it turned desperate—hands clutching, mouths hungry. Rosie climbed onto his lap, fingers pulling at his shirt, kissing him hard, their bodies already tangled in heat. He slipped her top over her head, tossing it aside, his mouth trailing down her collarbone.
"You're so damn beautiful," he growled against her skin.
Rosie gasped, arching into his touch. "Show me."
He didn't wait. He picked her up, still kissing her, and carried her to the kitchen counter. He pushed aside everything—plates, napkins, nothing mattered now. She sat on the edge, pulling him close, and his fingers worked her jeans down while hers fumbled with his belt.
Their first round was rough—urgent. He thrust into her hard against the counter, making her moan uncontrollably, hands gripping the marble edges.
"I missed this," Arthur groaned against her shoulder.
Rosie bit his neck, whispering between moans, "It's never been like this. Never."
They finished panting, foreheads pressed together, still breathing each other in.
They moved back to the living room, lying half-naked on the carpet.
Rosie turned to him, brushing her fingers across his chest. "What turns you on the most?"
Arthur smirked. "Besides the way you just let me take you like that?"
"Yeah."
He leaned in, whispering, "Your confidence. When you stop pretending you don't know how sexy you are."
Rosie laughed, breathless. "You know what I've always wanted?"
Arthur raised a brow. "Tell me."
"To be taken. Like… taken completely. No control. Just you and me and nothing else."
He growled low. "Then say no more."
He stood and pulled her up again. This time, they ran to the bathroom. He turned the shower on, but they never made it under the water. Arthur pressed Rosie against the wall tiles, her legs wrapping around his waist as he kissed her neck and grabbed her ass.
"You feel everything?" he whispered, thrusting deep and slow.
"All of it," she moaned, biting into his shoulder.
He gripped her tighter, pounding into her harder this time, until her cries echoed off the walls. He held her like she might disappear, growling her name as they both came undone.
Afterwards, they sat in the empty tub, no water, just wrapped in each other's arms.
"You're incredible," Rosie whispered. "No guy's ever… made me feel like this."
Arthur kissed her temple. "You're mine. All of you. And I'll never let this go again."
They eventually dried off and walked to Arthur's room. It was nearly 3 a.m. now. They lay in bed, talking quietly, laughing about awkward moments, whispering secrets they'd never told anyone.
Rosie traced his chest. "Have you ever imagined what it'd be like… to fuck on the balcony?"
Arthur's eyes widened. "Are you serious?"
She stood, pulling his hand. "Come find out."
The cool night air hit them as they stepped out. The street below was empty. Quiet. The city sleeping while they were wide awake.
Rosie leaned on the railing, looking back at Arthur with a smirk. "Well?"
He pressed up behind her, pulling her hips back. "God, you're something else."
This time, it was wild. He bent her over the railing, thrusting slow and deep, one hand tangled in her hair, the other gripping her waist. Rosie reached behind to hold his thigh, her voice breaking with every thrust.
"You like being bad?" he teased.
"I love it," she moaned. "Only with you."
The third round left them both wrecked—legs shaking, bodies marked with scratches and bites. They staggered back inside, collapsing onto the bed just as the sky began to lighten.
It was nearly 5 a.m.
Rosie curled into Arthur's chest, both of them naked, bodies sticky with sweat.
"Never thought this would be us," she said, yawning.
Arthur kissed her head. "This is us. Messy. Real. Raw. And I wouldn't change a second."
They fell asleep tangled up, finally feeling like they had nothing left to hide.